A 79-year-old Bundle of Joy - A Real Gem

Funny how people come into your live from nowhere, yesterday I went to the hairdresser for a waxing and when it was over I asked the hairdresser whether he was busy. He said that there was only one person having her hair dyed, Dona Gema.

Dona is a Portuguese word for madam and it is used to call older women. In Portuguese Gema can be the yolk of the egg or a precious stone, like gem, the latter coming from Latin. In Brazil we call people on a first name basis; therefore Gema was this little old ladies first name. 

Dona Gema told me to take advantage of the fact that there was no one else at the hairdresser and have my hair done instead of coming back in a couple of weeks. However, according to the hairdresser, I should wait a few more weeks for the hair to grow a bit before retouching the color. Nonetheless I stuck around.

For an hour and a half I was entertained with the most fascinating stories that this 79-year-old cheerful singer had to tell. She was born in the northeastern part of Brazil and was one of 18 siblings. Her parents had nine and adopted the other nine. Their life was pretty hard due to lack of food and water, however, their home was filled with love and union.

Among many stories, the one that stuck in my mind as I was driving home was that her father used to buy a gift for each and every child at Christmas time. Although they did not have enough money to splurge, he would buy shoes for the kids but had to give one pair to each two kids. Each child would put a shoe on a walk around as happy as they could be. They did not nag or complain about it. As she was telling me this story, she laughed loudly. You could feel the joy coming from her. She even compared this to kids nowadays who have get so many different toys at Christmas and complain when they do not get the color they wanted it in or even what they had asked for. She added that here in Sao Paulo people had everything they needed to lead a happy life and what she mostly heard nowadays were complaints.

Another story was about one of her brothers who passed away when he was ten. She told me that her brother was five years younger than her, so this story had not been told to her and that she remembered it quite well. Ever since her brother could speak he used to tell everyone that he was going to die on his tenth birthday when he caught the big fish. He would always say that he wasn’t going to be around for long, just ten years. No one in her family gave that any thought except for her mother who worried about it. She remembers that her brother loved fishing and he did this whenever he could and only caught fish the size of his fist. On his 10^th birthday though, he brought home a bigger fish. Done Gema said that her mother froze and instead of cooking it, she put it in the fridge. However, Dona Gema’s little brother insisted that their mother cook it because he had to eat it. Her father told his wife to stop being silly and to cook it. So she did. The boy ate it and around midnight he started to feel sick and passed away. She mentioned that from this day on, she became a very spiritual person.

My hairdresser quickly summarized how Dona Gema became a singer. Apparently she sang all her life but when she moved to Sao Paulo she became a radio singer and was quite famous. Still in her teen years, she met her husband and left her career behind to become a wife, mother and housewife. Ten years ago her husband passed away and she took up her singing career once again thanks to her children. In all she had seven children, but four had passed away. She added that she sings weekly at a club downtown and has recorded two CDs and that the third was to be released soon.

It was a memorable rainy Saturday afternoon. Hopefully I will run into Dona Gema more often at the hairdresser and be filled with her inspiring stories.

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(Written April 13, 2013)
copyright ©2013 - Todos os direitos reservados a Meire Marion.

300 in 30 minutes

Sitting in a classroom with a group of 40 students, 30 girls and 10 boys while they watch the movie 300 is a fascinating experience (once again subbing but this time for History). With each slay of the sword, each head that is cut off, each arrow that thrushes threw a person’s body, you hear screams and see the disgusted facial expressions. Some people laugh; guess it is hysteria or nervousness. One kid has just raised the board and covered the subtitles, so I stop writing to see what’s going on because the audience is screaming and cursing. I hear Ohs and ahs and look back at the screen to see what is going on in the movie; a movie that I have watched in 30 minutes.

 At this point you may be wondering how a movie as long as this one can be seen in a 30-minute session as suggested in the title. Well, when the movie came out on DVD, I borrowed it from the video club. I had heard so many good comments about it and my expectations where very high. I made some popcorn (movies are better when there is popcorn), got comfortable on the couch and turned on the DVD player. I watched and when the first battle started, I fast forwarded the DVD. From then on, I did that for every battle scene and only stopped to watch the scenes that had dialogue. Battle. Dialogue. Battle. Dialogue. Battle. Dialogue. And in 30 minutes: THE END.

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(Written April 11, 2013)

copyright ©2013 - Todos os direitos reservados a Meire Marion.

The Substitute Teacher

Being a substitute teacher is a bittersweet job. You hear so many complaints and have to give the students a long list of tasks that the teacher sent to be done, which when handed out the kids groan and moan about. On the other hand, you get to make some extra bucks for just sitting there making sure they do (or at least try to do) what they are supposed to. Sometimes I say that it is the same as babysitting, without the diaper changing or the bottle. At other times it feels like you are a prison warden without the weapons or the bars to protect you. Not that the students are violent or anything like that. It’s just that sometimes the anxiety level gets out of control and everyone wants to speak at the same time and louder than the next person.

When the students do not know you, it is better because they do not know if you are lenient or strict and most of the time I wear my mean look. So I have been told that the first impression I give off is being the meanest and strictest teacher on the face of the Earth. The problem is when they realize that that is just a first impression.

When I was a young student, there were some teachers that were real substitute teachers. They were able to go into a classroom and teacher whatever the subject was. I always thought that they were the smartest people alive for they knew so much. Mind you, I went to an American school then.  

Brazilians schools are a bit different. Schools hire temporary teachers for those subjects where the official teacher is on leave or sick, but they do not have a teacher who is just a sub, in which case whoever has time available takes over the class for that period. However, I believe that the substitute teacher in the States knows beforehand what he will teacher, therefore has an opportunity to prepare for the class. Perhaps this has changed and also I am not stating this to be a general truth. I speak from my experience.

Where I work, we have been asked to prepare exercises to be used by the substitute teachers for each grade based on what you have planned for that year. This is not a bad idea. However, sometimes you have to go into a class that you know nothing about the subject, like Physics, Math, or a foreign language. In these cases students sometimes have doubts and there is nothing you can do but take a note and leave it for the teacher to answer when he or she comes back to work. It is both frustrating for the students and for the sub.

In public schools here in Brazil, the students just stay around in the playground when the teacher is absent. They do not have enough teachers hanging around to be able to substitute. I believe that students sometimes appreciate the fact that they have a free class, meaning leisure time class, nothing to do whatsoever. But then again, not being taught is prejudicial to a student’s future.

Nonetheless, I think that this must also be aggravating after a couple of days, grant it, the first time you appreciate the time off, but after a couple of days you start to wonder what is going to happen to your studies. You need to go to school; there is no teacher to teach you; you go to the playground and fool around; what’s the use? Hanging around at home or at the mall is certainly much more fun. But you have to go to school because there is a specific number of school days one has to attend.

All I can say is that being a substitute teacher is no fun.

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(Written: April 11, 2013)
copyright ©2013 - Todos os direitos reservados a Meire Marion.

The Return of the Butterfly

On Tuesday, April 8^th, during the 4^th class of the morning, once again with the senior class, the butterfly which rocked appeared. Its appearance was magical and unexpected. As if from nowhere, it was transported onto the window sill.

No one had noticed its presence until the student who had been scared the last time it showed up pointed to the window and told me that she had read the story that I posted a few days ago here in my corner.

As our eyes followed in the direction her index finger was guiding them. To our surprise there it was; beautiful as the other day. It seemed like it was proud to be there listening in on our conversation.

Several questions came to mind, like, how long it had been sitting there; if it had just shown up because she pointed to it; whether it could understand that we were talking about it; and what the message it was bringing along with its visit was.

I had asked the same student to take a snapshot once again but as soon as he got up to do so; the butterfly flapped its wings and flew away. There was no time to get a shot. There was no time for observation.

The thought that came to mind as it was fleeing was that it had come to say goodbye. Butterflies only live for a week depending on the species. However, some live up to a year. Perhaps it was coming over to say farewell or listen to its favorite song one last time. To its frustration, it left without having heard it. It was on its way to the Brave New World. I guess there must be a butterfly heaven.

Photo by Rodrigo Ares

(Written: April 10, 2013)
copyright ©2013 - Todos os direitos reservados a Meire Marion.

Do You Believe in God?

The other day a student asked me whether I believed in God. I immediately said yes. I do and always have, so I really did not need to think about the answer. The young adult looked at me in awe; thought about my answer and then asked me whether I had ever seen God. Once again without giving it a second thought I said yes. He was shocked. He quickly inquired where I had seen him, what he looked like, and whether he had said anything. I looked him in the eyes and said: I see God every time I look in the mirror, when I look at you, when I see a flower bloom, when the sun comes up in the morning and when it sets at night. I see God in the raindrops.  I see him in each and every plant that grows in the garden.

He sat there and I could see that he was processing the information he was given. After a few minutes he mentioned that all these things I had mentioned could be proven by science how they came to be. I said that that was a very clever response and that I could not agree more. However, I asked him who had given the scientists intelligence to come up with those theories. He gave it some thought and then said it was not who but what; their brains.

Once again I agreed with him and asked who had created the brain. He immediately answered that the brain was a very complex organ and that science had not discovered yet everything that the brain could do. I agreed again and added that there was a greater power than science and the brain.

Then he asked if I saw God when there was a fire, a tropical storm, when wars broke out and when people died. I thought about it and said yes and no. He looked at me in a puzzled way and asked why God lets these things happen. I simply said that it was not God who imposed these things on us, but we who bring them on to ourselves. Angrily the boy said that we did not have the power to cause a tropical storm. Sarcastically he added that we were not that powerful. I agreed that we were not that powerful, however, I told him that I disagreed and still believed that we were the ones who caused the storm for we did not take care of our planet and we destroyed nature and in the end we did have something to do with the disaster. I also added that I did see God in those situations, specifically when strangers helped those who were hurt, when strangers helped those who had lost a loved one and I believed that those who accepted God in their lives were also greeted by Him when they passed away.

The young boy thanked me for answering his questions. Having said that he left school for the weekend.

Photo by Meire Marion

(Written: April 2, 2013)
copyright ©2013 - Todos os direitos reservados a Meire Marion.

Age Does Not Matter

Today I had the pleasure to meet and talk with Dona[1] Rita, an 83-year-old lady who lives alone with her pets in a house in the neighborhood and has her nails done by the same person who does mine. Because of the rain on this day, she arrived early and sat beside me.

My manicurist greeted her saying - Gatosa [2]Hello! Then she explained to me that gatosa  was her way of calling her like sexy lady. And so I was introduced to Dona  Rita.

We talked about her pets (Rita has a dog and a parrot) and she told me how she had found her dog, a Fox Terrier, in a box 14 years ago with a piece of wire wrapped around its neck and covered in blood. According to her, she way on her way home inside a taxi stopped at a traffic light when she heard terrible cries. She asked the taxi driver to stop to check. She had him drive her home to pick up a towel and returned to the spot to rescue the animal. After taking the dog to the vet, she took it home.

Dona Rita also told me about her great friend Sandrinha[3] that is 100 years old and is very elegant, has a flat belly, takes the bus everywhere she goes and only wears high heels. She said that one day she was at the newsstand talking to the salesperson when Sandrinha walked by and greeted her: -Hey granny! The salesperson then asked which of the two was older. Rita replied that Sandrinha was a 100 years old and she was only 83. Rita asked Sandrinha where she was going in a red dress and red high heels. Sandrinha smiled and replied – I’m going to flirt with the boys downtown.

I really enjoyed listening to the stories Dona Rita told me. Every time I said Dona Rita, she asked me to just call her Rita  I tried to explain that this way due to my upbringing  and that for me it was very difficult to call a person her age only on a first name bases , but I promised  would try.

Dona Rita, a gatosa 83-year-old woman who has her nails and toes painted red at the same beauty parlor I go to. Proof that happiness and vivacity does not depend on age.

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This story was originally written in Portuguese and posted on the website Tomate Poema in the beginning of 2013. http://tomatepoema.com.br/cronicas/idade-nao-importa/

copyright ©2013 - Todos os direitos reservados a Meire Marion.

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[1] Dona = Portuguese for madam.

[2] Gatosa = Gato ( cat in Portuguese ) + Gostosa ( sexy in Portuguese)

[3] In Portuguese adding the suffix `inha or inho’ to a person’s name is a sweet way of calling that person.

The Butterfly That Rocked

The music started and the beat picked up. In a Brave New World…. a Brave new World…in a Brave New World…. Louder and louder it went when all of a sudden a fluttering of wings come through the window One of the girls in the room screams and jumps out of her seat. It was such a beautiful butterfly; how could she have been so scared? Perhaps she thought it was a flying cockroach typical in a tropical country. Perhaps she thought it was a bat also typical in this city but not during the daytime. Nonetheless it scared her so much that she did not absorb the beauty and the magic of the moment.

All the others kept their eyes on this beautiful creature that apparently was very keen on the sound of Iron Maiden. As we watched we saw it rest on several locations but its favorite and where it stayed the longest was on the speaker way up high and close to the windows. Its wings moved with each pound of the song. Then, as if it knew the song by heart, it took off as soon as the song came to an end and made its way out the window just stopping for one moment to be registered in the photo.

( Written April 4, 2013 ) copyright ©2013 - Todos os direitos reservados a Meire Marion.

Photo taken by Rodrigo Ares